Girl Meets Memory, Part 1 (4x02)
by PrinceTrexus89
Summary: After being hit by a car, Smackle loses her memory, and grief-filled Farkle refuses to leave her side


**"Girl Meets Memory, Part 1"**

It was a sunny Thursday afternoon at Topanga's Bakery and Café, the favorite hangout spot of Riley Matthews and her friends. This afternoon she was deep in conversation with her friends Maya Hart, Farkle Minkus, Lucas Friar, and Zay Babineaux. The conversation of today was Halloween costume ideas.  
"Bruno Mars, all the way!" Zay was saying.  
"I would probably want to be a robot," said Farkle. "Or an alien! Or an astronaut! Or Farkle!"  
"Farkle?" asked Lucas, laughing.  
"Yes! Farkle is so unique it is it's own costume!" Farkle cried victoriously. "Thank you! I am Farkle!"  
"By the way," said Zay, looking around. "Where is Smackle?"  
"She had to finish a science project," Farkle replied. "She should be here soon."  
"I think I would like to dress as the great literary character, Jane Eyre," Riley said in her very sophisticated voice, before adding quickly, "or a Fairy Princess."  
Lucas began to speak next, but at that moment Farkle's cell phone began to ring.  
"Excuse me. I should probably get this," Farkle said, rising and heading outside. Lucas continued.  
"If Riley's going to be a princess, then I could probably be a prince."  
"Ha _HURRRRRL_!" Maya exclaimed. Riley laughed; this seemed to be Maya's new favorite saying whenever Riley and Lucas got all cutesy. "Why not just be yourself, the rope ridin' rootin' tootin' rodeo cowboy we all know you can be, Ranger Rick Roy McBoing Boing ha ha hur hur hurrrrrr!"  
"What are you going to be, then, Maya?" Lucas shot with a laugh.  
"I'm thinking... baseball meets Walking Dead."  
Riley let out a gleeful gasp, a huge smile on her face. "A Zombie Baseball player!"  
"And give the lady a cookie, that is correct!" Maya shouted, holding her pen in front of her mouth like a microphone. "Tell her what she's won, Johnny!"  
Farkle came back inside, a look of horror on his face. He appeared to be in shock; his breathing was shallow, his hands were shaking, still clutching his phone tightly.  
"Farkle, are you okay?" Lucas asked.  
Farkle didn't respond.  
Riley stood, walked over to Farkle, and pulled him into a tight hug. He didn't hug her back. Pulling away, Riley asked softly, "Farkle, what happened?"  
Farkle finally seemed to find his voice. "It...it's Smackle," he finally choked out. "Sh-She's been hit by a car."

" _I've been waiting, For a day like this to come Struck like lightning My heart's beating like a drum On the edge of something wonderful Face to face with changes, What's it all about? Life is crazy but I know I can work it out Cause I got you to live it with me I feel all right, I'm gonna take on the world Light up the stars I've got some pages to turn I'm singing oh, oh oh, oh oh oh, oh Take on the world, take on the world Take on the world Take on the world, take on the world Take on the world!"_

The automatic sliding doors couldn't open fast enough for Farkle as he raced into the waiting room of the hospital. He wasted no time getting to the front desk.  
"I need to see Isadora Smackle, please."  
"Are you immediate family?" asked the receptionist.  
"No, I'm her boyfriend."  
"I'm sorry, but right now, only immediate family is allowed."  
Riley, Lucas, and Maya had finally caught up. Riley was out of breath, nearly collapsing to her knees.  
"Since when can he run that fast?" She panted out. Lucas helped her over to one of the waiting room chairs.  
"Since someone he loves is in danger," replied Maya, watching as Farkle became more and more irritated with the receptionist.  
"Can you at least tell me her condition?" asked Farkle, running his hands through his hair in frustration.  
"I'm sorry, but I have no information at the current moment."  
"Can't you tell me _anything_!?"  
"I'm sorry, sir."  
"MY GIRLFRIEND JUST GOT HIT BY A CAR! DOES THAT MEAN NOTHING TO YOU!?" Farkle shouted, kicking a nearby waste bin.  
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down-"  
"Don't you _dare_ tell me to calm down when you can't even tell me-"  
"Farkle!" Riley came up to Farkle and pulled him away from the desk. She turned to the receptionist. "I'm so sorry for my friend's outburst. He's just really scared about his girlfriend."  
"We get that a lot," the receptionist replied, with a knowing smile. "I'm very sorry there's not more I can tell you."  
Maya and Lucas sat in shock, still stunned by Farkle's outburst.  
"Farkle," Riley said, "I _promise_ you, that Smackle will be okay."  
"How can you know that?" he asked. "What if something goes wrong? What if something-"  
Tears began to fill Farkle's eyes and Riley pulled him into a tight embrace. He began to cry into her shoulder.  
"Shhh," she whispered softly to him. "It's okay. Just let it out."  
Lucas stood and walked towards the reception desk.  
"Can you keep us updated, at least?" he asked.  
The receptionist nodded. "The second I hear something, I will let you know."  
"Thank you, ma'am," Lucas replied, giving a small polite nod and returning to his seat.  
Before long, a man and woman emerged from the Emergency Room doors. Both had jet black hair. The man wore glasses, and the woman wore a flowery blouse and suit pants. These were Smackle's parents. Farkle stood up straight and wiped his face. Smackle's mother came over to him and hugged him tight.  
"How is she, Mrs. Smackle?" Farkle asked.  
Mrs. Smackle took a deep breath. "She has two fractured ribs, a dislocated ankle, and she seems to have a really nasty concussion."  
"When can I see her?"  
"They need to run a few more tests on her head," replied Mr. Smackle, cleaning his glasses. "You should be able to see her after that. I'll make sure to tell the doctor your name so he knows to call you back first."  
"Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Smackle."  
"Excuse us, we have to get some fresh air for a while," said Mrs. Smackle, her eyes red and puffy. She and her husband left as Farkle reluctantly took a seat.  
At least two hours passed, and Farkle was growing impatient. He'd had two more blowups, been carried outside Fireman-style by Lucas, apologized to the receptionist three more times, and was given a warning by the hospital security guard that he would be removed forcibly from the premises if he caused any more disruptions. This was followed up by another half hour of angrily pouting in a chair, tapping his foot impatiently.  
Finally, a doctor came out of the Emergency Room and called out, "Mr... Farkle?"  
Farkle shot to his feet and was almost instantly at the doctor's side. "Is she okay?"  
"About as well as you can expect someone who just got hit by a car to be," replied the doctor. "She has a bad concussion and a couple broken ribs, but her vitals have stabilized."  
"Can we see her?" asked Maya.  
"Well, she's asleep at the moment, but yes you may. But please, only one at a time."  
"You go, Farkle," said Riley, "and don't forget to tell her how much we all love her."  
Farkle nodded and the next moment was guided through the ER doors. After getting the room number from the doctor, Farkle found her room and entered.  
Smackle lay in the hospital bed, asleep. Her left ankle was in a cast, her head was wrapped in bandages, and an oxygen mask covered her nose and mouth. Farkle sat in the chair closest to her bed, took her right hand with his left, and with his right hand, stroked her beautiful black hair.  
"How could this have happened, Smackle?" He asked softly, touching her hand to his lips. "You're always so careful when you cross the street, you follow all of the traffic signs..." his voice trailed off as his eyes filled with tears again. Wiping them away, he continued, "...and yet here you are, in a hospital... it's not _fair!_ I would give anything to take your place, just to see you unhurt again."  
He grasped her hand tightly and ran his thumb along the top of her hand.  
"Our friends are out there, too," he continued, "and they all want you to know they love you very much. And so do I."

"Farkle? Farkle, wake up."  
Farkle's eyes opened. He had fallen asleep, his hand still interlocked with Smackle's. Riley stood at the door, holding two bottles of water. Farkle looked around. It was now dark, he had spent the entire evening by Smackle's side. Riley handed him one of the water bottles. "Has she woken up at all?" she asked.  
"No," he admitted, taking a sip of the water. It was quarter till nine, and visiting hours would soon be over. "Have you guys been here all evening?"  
"No," Riley replied. "We left to get a bite to eat, then Lucas and Maya went home. My parents brought me back here. I just wanted to be here for you."  
"I'm fine," said Farkle, his eyes not leaving Smackle.  
Riley pulled up a chair beside him and lay her head on his shoulder.  
"She looks so beautiful," murmured Farkle as he watched Smackle sleep.  
"Yes, she does," agreed Riley. "You know she loves you, right? I don't know if she's ever said it to you aloud, but she really does love you."  
Farkle nodded. "She said it as a joke one time, but I know she does."  
"And you love her, right?"  
"More than anything," he admitted.  
A nurse entered the room, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Smackle. "I'm sorry, kids, but visiting hours are over. Immediate family only."  
Riley and Farkle stood. Riley headed out the door as Farkle took a step towards Smackle.  
"Come back to us," he whispered softly in her ear. "We miss you."  
He kissed her cheek and finally headed out.

Cory Matthews loved Fridays. He always did, ever since he met Farkle Minkus. When he first met Farkle, Cory had still been fairly new at teaching, and usually struggled to come up with a good lesson plan. During their first lesson together, Farkle, a sixth grader at the time, had covered the entire material of Cory's lesson plan in the first five minutes of class. Annoyed at being embarrassed, Cory decided to give Farkle an opportunity to teach the class every Friday for the entire month. He'd meant it as a learning technique that his old teacher, Mr. Feeny, had taught him as a child. There was just one slight hiccup with this plan: when Feeny presented him with this opportunity, Cory had failed miserably, unable to stop the inevitable riot that ensued. Farkle, on the other hand, with his commanding personality, had not only excelled in the assignment, but by the end of the month, he even had Cory doing his homework assignments. Cory had been so impressed by Farkle's success, that he decided to let Farkle teach his class every Friday for the rest of the year. He lovingly referred to these days as "Farkle Fridays". The arrangement was mutually beneficial for the both of them; Cory got a little bit of relief from the pressure of coming up with a daily lesson plans, and Farkle got to display his dictatorial "Farkle-ness". It was the start of a beautiful friendship.  
Now here Cory stood, five years later, on traditional Farkle Friday, with only one problem: no Farkle! Today had started like any other school day; Riley was the first one in, telling Maya about the previous days hospital visit. Lucas and Zay were next, both carrying balloons. Lucas's balloon said "THINKING OF YOU!", Zay's balloon said "GET WELL SON!", a typo which Zay was explaining annoyed him to no end, Cory looked towards the door, hoping to see his favorite Friday student, but Farkle never showed up. Cory stood before his class, flabbergasted, as he tried to quickly think of a subject for today's lesson.  
"Uhhh..." he stammered. "...Louisiana Purchase!"  
"Did that yesterday, sir," Maya said with a smirk.  
"The Civil War!"  
"Seventh grade, sir," Maya said with a smirk.  
"Belgium! 1831!"  
"Farkle would _kill_ you if you covered that without him!" Riley said, her eyes on her phone.  
"Riley, no texting during class," Cory said.  
"I'm trying to find where Farkle is," Riley replied. "Because, no offense, Daddy, but you're a mess on Fridays without him here."  
"Yeah, all right," Cory reluctantly nodded; he absolutely hated cell phones being used in his class.  
Riley typed a message and sent it.

 _To **Farkle**_

 _⁃ hey where r u? It's Farkle friday and dads totally lost without u here._

A few moments later, Riley's phone chimed.

 _1 New Message from: **Farkle**_

 _⁃ Sorry, Riley. But I am where I need to be. Tell ur dad I'm sorry too. :-( tell him the French & Indian war is a good topic._

Riley read the message twice and looked up. Cory looked at her expectantly, but Riley shook her head. "He says talk about the French and Indian War," she said. She looked at the message again. _I am where I need to be._ He was obviously at the hospital again, but that didn't stop Riley from wanting to march down to that hospital, grab Farkle by the ear and drag him back to school, telling him the entire way how stupid he was being. Angrily she began typing.

 _To **Farkle**_

 _⁃ ur being stupid farkle where u need to be is school! she will still b there after school. I know u love smackle but dont be a stubborn idiot._

Cory had begun talking about the French and Indian War.  
"In 1754, the French and Indian War was just one little part of a much greater war called the Seven Years War. Now, the British-"  
Riley's phone chimed again. Cory chose to ignore it and kept on talking. Riley read the screen.

 _1 New Message from: **Farkle**_

 _⁃ I'm sorry you feel that way, Riley. I know you don't understand, but I would just be a hindrance at school. Smackle means the world to me and I can't leave her side at least until she wakes up. If I were at school my mind would just be here anyway._

It made her so mad she wanted to throw the phone. But she knew better than to text back. It was clear there was no changing Farkle's mind right now. Once he had his mind made up, there was no way she could change it.  
At least, _she_ couldn't...

In a situation like the one Isadora Smackle was currently in, most people would've come and gone, visited and left and come back. Most people would've known when too much time was too much. Most people would've slept, or at least _eaten_. Most people were not Farkle Minkus. Farkle had literally not budged all day from the chair that sat next to Smackle. It was now 4:30 pm, School was out, life moved on, and yet Farkle remained, staring at Smackle, just waiting for her to awaken. A voice from the doorway startled him, however, and he nearly fell out the chair.  
" _YOU!_ "  
Farkle spun around to find Cory standing in the doorway, mad as a hornet.  
"Mr. Matthews, I-"  
"Do you know what you put me through today, Farkle!?" Cory hissed. "Do you know how hard it is to recite the names and dates of a war that happened almost 300 years ago from _memory_!?"  
"I'm sorry, sir," said Farkle, "but this needed my attention more."  
Cory shook his head. "No... no... just, no! You are a _kid_! You _need_ to be in _school!_ I know how important Smackle is to you, Farkle, but this can wait till after school hours."  
"My mind would've been here anyway," replied Farkle. "I would've been no use to you."  
Cory let out a deep breath and replied, "It's not about how much use you are to _me_ , Farkle. Your entire education means so much more than this one situation!" He gestured to Smackle and continued. "I mean, do you think she would want you to skip school just to sit next to her in a hospital all day?"  
Farkle looked at Smackle. As usual, his teacher was right. Education meant everything to Smackle, and Farkle knew she wouldn't really want him to give up his just to be next to her all day.  
"Farkle," Cory said, a softer tone in his voice now, "I know she means so much to you, and I respect that. But you can't just stop your entire life like this. It's not healthy. I know better than anybody how hard it is to go on living your daily life when a part of your world is taken from you. But we have to keep pushing. It's the only way we can survive."  
"How do you know this better than anybody?"  
"Because I did exactly what you're doing now," replied Cory, remembering back. "When Topanga and I were in high school, she moved to Pittsburgh for a little while, and I thought my whole world had ended. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I could barely even breathe. I don't want to see you go through all that, Farkle."  
He walked over to the window and knocked. Instantly, Riley, Maya, and Lucas all popped up their heads in the window.  
"You see these guys?" Cory continued. "You have a lot of people who care about you, Farkle, especially them. And they don't want to see you go through it either."  
"Neither do we, Farkle."  
Mrs. Smackle appeared in the doorway.  
"Mrs. Smackle?"  
"Farkle," she began, "we know how much you care for Isadora, but you need to take care of yourself, too."  
"Go home, Farkle," said Cory. "Take a break, take some time for yourself."  
"Isadora will still be here," added Mrs. Smackle, "and I will let you know the second anything changes."  
Cory started for the door. "And I _will_ see you in class on Monday, Farkle."  
"Sir, I-" Farkle began, but Cory shook his head.  
" _Promise_ me, Farkle!"  
Farkle looked from Cory to Mrs. Smackle, who nodded.  
"You _will_ go back to school, Farkle," she said, "or else I'm afraid we cannot allow you to come see Isadora anymore."  
Farkle took a deep, shaky breath and nodded. "I promise, Mr. Matthews."  
Cory tousled his hair. "Good man."

Not much changed over the weekend. Smackle did not wake up, her friends visited in and out, Riley brought flowers, Maya brought a picture she had painted, and while he did occasionally go home to quickly shower and change clothes, it was very difficult for anyone to get Farkle to leave Smackle's side. As the weekend went on and he watched Farkle, Cory grew more and more concerned that Farkle would miss yet another class. However, Monday morning, class began and there Farkle sat in his usual spot, behind Riley.  
For most of the day, Riley and Maya watched as Farkle went through his regular routine. A few classmates came up to him throughout the day and gave him a knowing pat on the shoulder, or a hug, or an "I'm sorry". Riley and Maya had to fight back laughter when Darby Walker had come up to Farkle practically in hysterics, pulled him in an extremely tight hug, and cried, tears streaming down her face, "Oh my gosh, Farkle, I am so sorry! I can't believe something so horrible would happen to Smackle! How are you doing? How is _she_ doing? Is she okay? Are _you_ okay? Do you need a shoulder to cry on?"  
She was saying all of this rather fast, and Farkle found it overwhelming. Riley was about to step in when Farkle shook his head. "I'll be okay. Thank you, though."  
By last period, Farkle was just eager for the day to end so he could get back to the hospital.  
"I'm sorry, Farkle," said Riley. "I know all these people can't have made today easy for you."  
Farkle put his head down on his desk. "All I want is to be with her again," he admitted.  
Just then his phone chimed. He pulled it out and read the message. It was only two words.

 _1 New Message from: **Smackle's Mom**_

 _⁃ She's awake._

He sat up straight. His heart skipped a beat as he reread those words over and over and over again. He decided not to respond and instead enjoyed the last ten minutes of class. The bell rang and as Farkle gathered up his books, his phone chimed again.

 _1 New Message from: **Smackle's Mom**_

 _⁃ Farkle, DO NOT come to the hospital today! Will explain details later. Please do NOT come see Isadora. Will call you when things settle down._

Farkle couldn't believe what he was reading. After five excruciatingly long days, Smackle was finally awake, and yet now her mother was forbidding him from seeing her! A tear rolled down his face and before he could message back, Riley snatched his phone.  
"Riley, give it back."  
Riley read the message. "Something must be wrong," she said softly.  
"I'm going to see her," Farkle declared.  
"I don't think that's a good idea," replied Riley. "She said-"  
"I know what she said, Riley!" Farkle was now getting angry. "But I don't care! Smackle is _awake_! Do you get that, Riley!? She's awake, for the first time since her accident! I _have_ to see her!"  
Without another word, he ran out of the room, Riley's eyes following him.  
"Be careful, Farkle," she whispered softly.

Once he was past the security desk, Farkle broke into a run towards Smackle's room. He reached the door, but nearly crashed into Mr. Smackle, who was coming out of the room.  
"Farkle? What are you doing here?"  
"I have to see her!" Farkle said, breathing heavily.  
"That might not be the best idea," Mr. Smackle said, his hand on Farkle's shoulder.  
"I'm sorry, sir, I know what the text said, but-"  
Mrs. Smackle came out of the room.  
"Farkle? I thought I told you-"  
"I know what you told me, Mrs. Smackle," Farkle replied, "but I don't know what I did to-"  
"You don't understand, Farkle," Mrs. Smackle said. "It's not you at all. It's her. She's not herself. Something's... happened."  
"What happened?"  
No answer. Mr. Smackle looked at the floor, while Mrs. Smackle searched for the right words but was left speechless.  
"What happened to her?" Farkle asked again.  
"Farkle..." Mrs. Smackle began again but no other words could emerge. A tear rolled down her cheek now.  
He pushed past her towards the door.  
"Farkle _wait!_ You don't want to go in there!" She called quickly after him as he opened the door.  
"Let him go," her husband said, putting his arm around her. "He has to know."

Farkle walked into the room. Smackle was sitting up, her glasses on, the oxygen mask now gone.  
"Hey!" he said happily.  
"Hello," she responded, strangely formal.  
"Everyone's been so worried about you."  
"Everyone's been so worried about me," she repeated, her brow furrowing.  
Farkle took the chair next to her and reached for her hand. She pulled it away.  
"I forgot, you don't like being touched," he said with a small smile, "I'm sorry."  
"I don't like being touched," she said, more as though she were repeating it back than making a definitive statement.  
"I've missed you," he said softly. "I know you're probably a little disoriented from the accident, but-"  
"You've... missed me," she repeated. "I'm... a little... dis...dis...dis..."  
She looked at him with a strange look of confusion. Something was very wrong. This was more than just slight disorientation. What she said next made his heart sink.  
"D...Do I know you?"  
Farkle stared at her, shocked, before finally replying, "Smackle...what do you mean? Of course you know me! I'm Farkle."  
She laughed. "That's a funny name. Smackle!" More hysterical laughter. She began sounding out the word. "Suh- _mack_ -el!" The more she repeated it, the more she broke into hysterical fits of laughter. She began making slapping motions while repeating the name.  
"That's _your_ name," Farkle tried again. "Isadora Smackle!"  
She ignored him, continuing to laugh uncontrollably.  
"Smackle, please, what's going on?" He grabbed her hand. Instantly, the laughter stopped and she pulled her hand away as though she had been bitten by a snake.  
" _Don't touch me!_ " she shouted angrily. Instantly her tone had completely changed. "I don't like strangers touching me!"  
"I'm not a stranger, Isadora! It's me, Farkle!"  
" _Get away from me!_ " she screamed as she grabbed a tissue box on the table and threw it at him.  
Quickly a nurse came in and gave her a sedative.  
"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the nurse said. Farkle nodded and left the room. Mr. and Mrs. Smackle were still there.  
"W...What's wrong with her?" Farkle asked, his eyes filled with tears.  
"That's what we were trying to tell you, Farkle," replied Mrs. Smackle. "Isadora's... not herself."  
"I don't understand."  
"The concussion," said Mr. Smackle. "The injury to her head appears to have severely damaged parts of her brain, especially in the limbic system of the medial temporal lobe, the area that affects long term memory."  
"The doctors found a lot of swelling in that area," continued Mrs. Smackle. "I'm sorry, Farkle, but Isadora has amnesia."  
Amnesia. The word was out now. He didn't want to believe it was true. It _couldn't_ be true!  
"No... she can't..." he stammered out.  
"We didn't want you to have to see her like this," said Mrs. Smackle. "Isadora can't remember you, or her friends, or us, or even who _she_ is."  
"How long is it supposed to last?" asked Farkle, afraid of the answer.  
"No one knows," replied Mr. Smackle. "That's the bad part. Nobody knows when or even _if_ she will get her memory back."  
"She will," Farkle said, watching through the window as Smackle fell asleep. The sedative was beginning to work. "She has to."

"So Smackle's lost her memory?" Riley concluded. Farkle nodded.  
"She can't remember me, or her parents, or any of us, or even her own identity."  
"Any idea when she'll get her memory back?" asked Lucas.  
"No," Farkle replied. "Could be tomorrow, could be next week, could be next year. No one knows."  
Farkle told them about his encounter with Smackle earlier that day.  
"I can't even imagine how she must be feeling right now," Maya murmured, staring out the window. "No idea who she is, who any of her friends or family are..."  
"She must be so scared," Riley said sadly. "Everything is so new and strange to her."  
"We just have to slowly reintroduce her to her world," said Lucas. "We can't expect her to remember too much too fast."  
Farkle knew Lucas was right. He had scared Smackle when he'd tried to take her hand. This new Smackle didn't know him at all, which meant as heartbreaking as it was, there was only one thing Farkle could do.

The next day after school, Farkle came into the hospital room and sat in the chair next to Smackle. She was asleep. He took his hand and gently stroked her cheek, being extra careful not to wake her.  
"I'm sorry," he said. "Your world has been taken away from you. You don't know anybody or anything about your life. You're so scared, and my actions yesterday couldn't have made things any easier. I'm sorry, Smackle."  
She shifted slightly and he quickly pulled his hand away. Her eyes fluttered open and when they found Farkle, she quickly sat up and inched away from him.  
"Don't be afraid," he said quickly. "I'm your friend."  
"Where am I?" she asked, looking around.  
"You're in the hospital."  
She looked at Farkle and studied his face. "Who are you?"  
He gave her a warm smile. "I'm Farkle."  
Her face scrunched up and she shook her head. "No...no... that doesn't sound right."  
"It's okay," he said, making sure not to touch her, no matter how much he wanted to. "You're confused, you've been through a lot. I don't expect you to remember me right away."  
"I'm sorry," she said. "I just... I... I can't remember. I can't remember anything! I'm trying."  
"It's okay," he said again.  
She touched her forehead. "My head really hurts."  
"I know," he said, "that's to be expected. Don't push yourself too hard. It'll all come back to you eventually."  
She closed her eyes, and they sat in silence for a few moments. Finally Smackle spoke again.  
"S...Sm...Smack...le."  
He blinked. "What?"  
"Smackle," she said. "It's the only word I can seem to remember. What does it mean?"  
Farkle chuckled slightly. "It's your name."  
Again her face scrunched up and again she shook her head.  
"That doesn't sound right either. I don't think I would have such a weird sounding name."  
"It's your last name," replied Farkle. "Your first name is Isadora."  
She continued to shake her head.  
"No, I don't think so."  
Farkle gave her a warm smile. "Let's not worry about names right now. Let's try places. Do you know where you are?"  
"In the hospital... at least, that's what those two nice people told me earlier."  
"Look outside," he said. "See if you can remember anything about it."  
Smackle looked out the window. Her room had a very nice view of the city.  
"It's very big," she said. "But I'm sorry, I can't remember it. Do we live in a big city?"  
"Yes," he nodded. "We live in New York."  
She sighed dreamily. "It's very pretty."  
"Wait till you see it at night," Farkle replied. "It's even better."  
"Smackle..." She said again, more to herself. She then turned to Farkle. "What's wrong with me?"  
"Nothing," he replied quickly. "You're perfect."  
"Then why can't I remember anything?" she asked. "Why do I feel so stupid, like I don't know anything?"  
Farkle took a deep breath. He wasn't sure how she would take the news of her accident. All he could do was try to soften the blow, and hope for the best.  
"A few days ago, you hit your head really hard," he said. "It made you forget a lot of things."  
"Important things?" she asked.  
"Yes," he replied. "Names, places, people..."  
"Will I ever remember them again?"  
The question hit Farkle like a ton of bricks. He wanted to cry. He wanted to hold her and tell her everything would be all right, but at the moment, she didn't know who he was. If he tried to hold her, she might go into another panic. So, gazing out the window, he took a breath and finally said, "I hope so... I really hope so."

 **TO BE CONTINUED...**


End file.
